


One Shots

by gaslight_skellington



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), WandaVision (TV)
Genre: Avengers Family, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot Collection, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-22 10:46:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30037497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaslight_skellington/pseuds/gaslight_skellington
Summary: A collection of one shots focusing on Darcy x Bucky
Relationships: Clint Barton/Laura Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis, Jane Foster/Thor, Sharon Carter/Monica Rambeau
Comments: 16
Kudos: 87





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Since Falcon and The Winter Soldier is rapidly approaching, I thought I would upload the Bucky x Darcy one shots I've been dabbling with over the last while - these aren't connected to each other and they won't all be canon compliant. It's my first attempt at Marvel fiction so please let me know what you think :)
> 
> First up, Darcy gets a call for help from a friend.

“Dr Lewis' office.”

“Darcy.”

“She's busy, I'm afraid. Can I take a message?” Despite answering the call, Darcy continued to type away at the keyboard, her eyes moving rapidly from the screen to the page of equations beside her to make sure she was inputting the correct numbers in the correct place – after the week she'd had, the last thing she needed was to blow something up when this went to the experimental stage.

“Darcy, I know it's you.”

The familiarly wry voice on the other end of the line finally resonated with her subconscious and she frowned slightly before saving the work she'd already done and giving the call her full attention. A glance at the caller ID confirmed it and she found herself smiling.

“Monica? Long time, no speak. Why didn't you say it was you to start with and I wouldn't have bothered with the accent?” She'd been sitting in the same, hunched over position for well over two hours and now that she was no longer focused on the screen, the throbbing ache in her back made its presence known and she winced as she stood, rolling her shoulders to try and loosen them.

“I'm flattered that I don't warrant a fake accent.” Darcy could still hear the wry amusement in Monica's voice but now that she was actually paying attention, she could also hear the tension beneath.

“So, what can I do you for?”

“I'm in the neighbourhood with some friends; was hoping to stop by.”

“Ummm,” Darcy glanced at the clock on the wall and winced at the time. “I'm at the lab right now but I can be home in about thirty minutes, depending on traffic.”

“Yeah, I'm actually outside your place now. And I'd really like to be inside and away from any prying eyes as soon as humanly possible.”

“Oh, it's that kinda visit, huh?” She started to gather up the possessions that had ended up scatted across the lab throughout the day. “Okay, you see the beat up red Jeep in the backyard? There's a spare key tucked under the passenger seat. Let yourself in and I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thanks, Darce.”

“Eh, mi casa, su casa and all that.”

“You got a first aid kit?”

“Yeah, cupboard below the sink in the kitchen. You gonna need anything more substantial than my twenty dollar kit?”

“No, should be fine. He heals quicker than most.”

“He? He who?”

“I'll explain everything when you get here, I swear.”

“On my way.”

The call disconnected and she tucked her phone into the pockets of her jeans, where it could be reached easily, before continuing her search – she grabbed keys, water bottle, note books, re-usable coffee cup, head phones and her lucky pen, tossing them all into her oversized grey bag and doing the necessary rounds to make sure the lights were all safely turned off and no experiments were left running, before she locked up the lab and headed towards her car.

She hadn't seen Monica in over a year – not since they'd watched as Wanda closed down the Hex and put the town back to normal, or as normal as possible in the post snap world. Darcy had watched from afar as Jimmy had cleared up the site and as Wanda slipped safely away, still grief stricken but stronger than she had been, and returned only to drag Monica and Jimmy a local Irish pub after they'd debriefed; they'd spent hours there, telling stories of work and how they'd ended up at the Hex, and of their superheroes – Darcy had made Jimmy snort Guinness through his nose when she told them about when and how she'd met Thor and her subsequently tasering him and Jane running him over with a car - twice. They'd swapped details, promised to stay in touch and then went their separate ways – Jimmy went back to the FBI but they'd stayed in touch, mostly by email and text, and they'd had dinner the last time she visited San Francisco for a conference. Monica had gone back to SWORD so that she could try and clear up the mess left by Hayword and his eagerness to drag the organisation into a fight they couldn't win, and while they'd text a few times, and Darcy had emailed her with information about Hayword she'd come across during a hack, Darcy hadn't actually spoken to her since they parted. Still, despite their short time together, the intense experience had bonded the three of them and Darcy felt a loyalty towards them that she'd only felt towards a handful of other people in her life and she knew that whatever Monica needed her help with, she was onboard.

She managed to get home in less than 20 minutes, thanks to the light traffic and the lack of cops who might otherwise have pulled her over for not strictly adhering to the speed limit. The front of the house was still dark, but she could see light spilling from the kitchen window as she pulled her car into place beside the broken down Jeep and parked it.

The kitchen door was locked again but she could make out the soft murmur of voices inside as she rooted around in her bag for the keys; the door opened before she found them and she just about managed to hold back her shriek at the sight of the gun barrel that greeted her.

“What the – Jesus, man, take it easy.” She held her hands up at either side of her hand and glared at the dark haired man behind the gun. “I let you hide out in my house and this is how you repay me?”

“Hey, put the gun down. She's a friendly.” Monica's voice came from the small dining room that the kitchen led into and Darcy glanced towards the door briefly as the dark haired man lowered his gun and stepped back to allow her inside, his eyes widening as they looked her over.

He was taller than her, well built with wide shoulders, dark hair and at least a day's growth of stubble; his eyes were a clear, bright blue and he was dressed in black tactical pants and a black vest and as the light caught his arm, she realised with a jolt who it was she was objectifying - Bucky Barnes: World War 2 Vet, Captain America's BFF, prolific assassin, possibly the world's longest held POW and definitely the hottest man she's ever laid eyes on – and she'd met literal gods.

She stepped around him silently, keeping her back to him as she met Monica's gaze and mouthed 'he's hot' with a jerk of her head; Monica's lips twitched in a familiar gesture and Darcy turned her head towards the other person in the room when he chuckled softly before her attention was drawn to the unconscious woman laid out on her kitchen table.

“Jesus, is it bring Cap's sidekicks to work day or what?” She quickly tugged her bag and coat off and threw them onto the ground in the hallway just outside the dining room, before coming to stand beside Monica, gazing down at a very pale Sharon Carter and nodding her head towards the kitchen. “I see you even got the vintage edition.”

“Not sure side-kick is the right word to use.” Sam Wilson drawled but he was smiling at her when she glanced towards him and she knew he wasn't offended; she refused to look back at Barnes because a, he was kinda scary and b, she could only look at that level of hotness for so long before she stopped functioning.

“Hey, if you had to be anyone's sidekick...” She shrugged. “Anyway, I'll apologise when, you know, there isn't a wanted fugitive passed out on my kitchen table.”

“That's fair.” Sam nodded, smile fading slightly at her reminder.

“So, not that I'm not thrilled to see you but what's going on, Monica?”

“SWORD received an anonymous tip off about an individual from this area showing signs of some sort of unexplained power and I volunteered to come and check it out.”

“On account of your own unexplained power?”

“Girl, you literally worked out where my powers came from.”

“True. Sorry, please continue.”

“Carter has been monitoring chatter about weapons being smuggled in from Wakanda and she said it spiked over the last few days, with a focus here and the next town over and then those two came across intel suggesting there is a still functioning Hydra base on the outskirts of town. Imagine my surprise when I walked into the warehouse and found them already there, bickering about a big red clock on the wall that was counting down.”

“Trap, huh?”

“Trap. The Hydra cell was real alright so I figure they thought they'd be able to take out four birds with one stone. Warehouse is on the other side of the city with an underground base and we weren't completely clear when it blew; we managed to get out, but Barnes got hit with a lot of shrapnel and Carter collapsed as soon as we got to your place. We think she walked through a cloud of something and whatever it was has caused, you know, this. She's breathing fine, but we can't wake her.” She gestured to the unconscious woman again before sighing. “We did managed to grab a laptop and a hard drive, so we were hoping you'd be able to have a look, see if you can find anything on them. I was going to give it another hour and if there's no change in Carter, call in SWORD.”

Darcy was quiet as she took in the sight of Monica pacing slightly around the head of Sharon Carter; the woman had always been so self assured and confident when dealing with the assholes from SWORD at the Hex – she'd never backed down from calling Hayword out when she thought he was wrong and it was strange to see her look so unsure of herself.

“What are you not telling me?”

“Turns out Carter is my soulmate and I'd really, really like her to wake up so we can discuss that.” Monica answered immediately.

“Oh wow.” Darcy breathed. “Congrats.”

She stepped towards Monica, grinning as the other woman returned her quick hug before stepping back.

“Alright; this isn't really my area but Tony once built me a sort of basic, super science kit so if we can get some blood drawn, I can run it through that so see what she inhaled and if I can't figure it out, I'll call Helen.” Darcy glanced towards Sam. “The kit is in the spare bedroom, upstairs and second door on the right. Can you grab it for my please?”

“No problem.” He nodded.

She looked back at Monica. “Can you get her shirt off? I'm not perving, you know I like dudes but I won't be able to push those sleeves up enough to draw blood properly – they're too tight.”

She considered the joke a success when Monica drop the lost look that had been on her face, and shook her head with a chuckle before lifting Sharon up enough for Darcy slip her shirt off – she folded it beneath the blonde and motioned for Monica to lay her down again.

She pulled her hair into a tighter bun at the top of her head as she wandered back towards the kitchen to get gloves, stopping at the sight of Bucky Barnes leaning against the doorway, eyes intense and focused on her approach. She'd seen pictures of him – both from the 40s and more recently – and had always noticed how gorgeous he'd looked in them, but looking at him now, she had to admit they hadn't done him any justice at all. Even in his thoroughly modern clothing, he had that old school, bad boy vibe that reminded her of the massive crush she'd had on James Dean as a teen.

“You're her.”

“I am me, yes.”

She'd answered before the words resonated but when they did, she could feel the colour draining out of her face and her mouth dropped open; those were her words - the ones written across her ribs in an old fashioned, fancy script that she'd always found dreamy but had never considered were due to the fact that her soul mate could be from a time when they taught proper hand writing.

“Holy shit.” She breathed, looking up at him and raising a hand to where the words were written. “Oh my God.”

He looked unsure now, glancing between her and the room behind her where she could hear Sam setting down her science kit; he reached a hand up to scratch at the stubble on his cheek and she felt her breath catch at the play of muscles in his arm. He was blushing very slightly and she couldn't help but think that it should be illegal for someone who looked like him to blush like that – it gave a girl _ideas._ Lots and lots of ideas about strong arms and full body blushing.

“I, uh... sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Shouldn't have said anything.” He muttered, dropping his gaze with a wince. “I'm sorry.”

Oh wow, he was genuinely nervous; Darcy felt her stomach flip at the thought that this man – gorgeous and nervous – was actually _hers._

“No, don't apologise; I just... I wasn't expecting my soulmate to be...”

“A former Soviet assassin with one arm?” She could just about make out the bitter twist of his lips at the same time as she heard Sam say his name carefully behind her – she didn't know if it was in support or to censor him for the harsh words.

“Um, hot, actually. I honestly thought I'd end up with a skinny little hipster dweeb.”

She heard Monica choke back a laugh behind her and shrugged when Bucky raised his eyes to hers again; he still looked nervous, and he was glancing back and forth between her and Sam as if he wasn't sure who to concentrate on, but there was also something that could only be described as hopeful in his expression and she swore then and there that she'd do anything she possibly could to take down the people that had made him feel unworthy. Hydra were officially back on her to be destroyed list – they'd fallen off over recent years, what with the giant purple overlord from outer space showing up but from here on out, that was her focus; Hydra were going down.

“Hot?” His voice was soft but drew her attention back to him immediately and she shrugged, motioning to his... everything.

“I lack a filter sometimes, you'll get used to it. But dude, please don't ever think that I'll hold you responsible for anything you did under Hydra's control. Because I won't and that's my soulmate you're disparaging so we'll have to have words and I warn you now, I'm very good at words.”

She felt her lips curve up slightly in response to his small smile; there was a look of surprise on his face and now that she was over the initial shock, she could feel his nervousness as he watched her through the fledgling bond; it was battling with wonder and hope and want and she felt her breath catching at the intensity of it all. Nothing had prepared her for this – not the classes she'd taken as an undergrad, or the romance novels she'd devoured, or the studies she'd read or the blockbuster movies about soulmates.

“I don't know what a hipster is.” He told her softly; she caught sight of his hand flexing slightly at the confession and couldn't resist reaching out to catch it, curling her fingers against his instinctively and squeezing reassuringly. His skin was warm and his grip was tight and she felt her stomach clench with want as considered just how big and steady those hands seemed – the heat in his eyes when he caught her gaze again told her he'd felt _that_ through the bond.

“Better off that way, to be honest.” She laughed nervously.

“I'm slightly terrified for the fate of the world now that you two are a pair.” Sam chuckled from behind them and Darcy felt her smile widen at the flare of pride she felt through the bond, even as she watched Bucky glare at the other man over her head.

“Guys, I'm sorry. I'm so happy for you, Darce, and I really don't want to break this up but...” Monica's voice was soft but she could hear the urgency in it and knew she had to get back to the plan; she allowed herself to keep hold of his hand for another few seconds before sighing and letting go.

“This conversation is TBC... wait, what should I call you?”

“Whatever you want, doll.”

“Oh, don't break out the old fashioned endearments, man – my libido won't be able to handle it.” Wow, she needed to get a filter around this man.

He laughed outright then, mouth wide and eyes crinkled and she swore to herself that she'd make sure that happened more often – both because the sight of it was spectacular and because she was pretty sure he hadn't had enough opportunity to laugh over the last 70 odd years.

“No, honestly – you prefer Bucky or James?”

“Bucky. Please.”

“Bucky it is. Alright, Bucky. TBC.”

“I don't know what that means either, sweetheart, but whatever you need.”

“Oh, we're going to have so much fun, Bucky Barnes.” She reached up instinctively and wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into his hold when she felt the strength of his embrace. His left hand came to rest on the small of her back, his fingers slipping beneath the thin material of her tshirt and she shivered against the sensation of cool metal against warm flesh; she knew he'd felt her reaction when his grip tightened further, and he pressed her closer to his body.

“Alright, blood test first, then hacking and then we'll continue with this conversation. And also hug some more, because I am enjoying this.” She murmured against his shoulder, grinning to herself as she heard his small huff of laughter.

Oh yeah, she was going to enjoy this.


	2. Chapter 2

“I don't want to.”

“You need more friends, Buck.”

“Lies.”

He could hear Sam chuckling behind him and shot a glare at him before turning his attention back to Steve; the blonde was fighting against an increasingly familiar smirk as he gazed at him and Bucky felt his eyes narrow further at the sight of it.

“It's just a party, Buck. It's the team and their families, good food, music, maybe some dancing. You love dancing.”

“Modern music sucks and Hydra didn't really let me keep up the dancing, punk, so I'm a little rusty.”

“Well then, you'll be needing practice, won't you? And I'd keep your mouth shut about modern music around Darcy, if you're, uh, hoping to impress her.”

“Shut up.” He tried not to growl but he knew he hadn't succeeded by the sound of Wilson's guffaw.

“Shuri's there – you love Shuri.”

“More than I love you right now.” He muttered, before throwing his head back with a sigh.

It was the spider kid's girlfriend's 18th birthday and although Bucky knew for a fact that she, Peter, Peter's aunt _and_ Pepper had all tried to convince him otherwise, Stark had insisted on throwing her a party and inviting the entire team, new and expanded as it was, to the tower to celebrate. He'd managed to get a message to Thor and the Guardians, and Bucky had heard some of them landing a few hours ago while he was hiding from Steve, and this exact conversation, in his room. Shuri had flown in from Wakanda, although she'd had to give her brother's excuses as he was involved in some diplomatic debacle at the UN, and had come to visit him earlier that day – she'd also tried convincing him to go to the party, but he'd been able to distract her by asking about her latest innovations. Danvers was here since she'd been on planet helping Fury with something, Barton's wife and kids had been in the city all week and Scott had flown in along with his daughter and Hope, and he'd heard Sam mention that even Strange had promised to stop by with Wong at some point. It wasn't the whole team, but it was most of them.

If forced, Bucky could admit that he liked most of the team – in small groups or, even better, individually – but the thought of dealing with all of them at the same time, in the relatively small space of the private living room of the Tower, made him nervous in a way he honestly thought he'd been getting over. And if he was nervous, he was likely to make an ass out of himself in front of the pretty, dark haired scientist he'd been keeping an eye on for the last few months – again. So far, he'd never managed a successful interaction with the dame, who lived in the tower and worked on one of the lab floors, along with Thor's new – slash – ex – sweetheart, Dr Foster; he'd spilled coffee over one of her notebooks and ruined the equations she'd spent hours working on, accidentally tripped her up as she was rushing down the hall after Barton, insulted her cooking and then accidentally sat on and broke the new tablet he'd heard her gushing about... and then he ran away. _Every single time._ After every disaster, she'd look at him in confusion and he'd stare back in horror and then he'd turned and ran away – he'd said maybe a handful of words to her in the entire time they'd lived in the same building; she was beautiful and funny and sweet, loved by everyone in the tower, and he wanted her more than he'd wanted anything in decades but there was no doubt in his mind that she hated him.

And she'd be there tonight.

“Look,” Sam spoke softly, from his spot at Steve's shoulder and Bucky sighed and listened; it was Sam's genuine voice, the one he used when they were talking about serious issues, rather than the mocking tone he used normally, and he always listened to the genuine voice. “Thor bought the good stuff with him – even Steve can get drunk on it. You come to the party and have a couple of drinks, get something to eat, speak to at least one person who isn't me or Steve and then we'll pretend not to notice when you sneak out after an hour.”

“Deal.” Bucky nodded, knowing it was the best he'd get without having to deal with a disappointed Steve. “Let's go.”

“Oh, now he's eager.” Steve muttered.

“Shut up.” Bucky repeated, following the other men out of the suite and towards the shared living room, where he could already hear laughter, loud voices and what passed as music these days.

The room was brightly lit, with small groups of people spread across it. Thor was behind the bar, handing out tall glasses filled with a pale gold liquid; Jane was perched on the bar, facing the rest of the room, but he could tell that her attention was on the tall blond god behind her. Rocket was perched on one of the barstools, laughing at something Barton said as he accepted a glass, a hand pressed to the small of his wife's back. Bucky had met Laura a few times and had liked her because she reminded him of his own ma – she was fair, but strict; he'd heard her yelling plenty of times but she also had the same soft, dangerous voice that his ma had broken out any time he and Steve had done something particularly stupid and she wanted to instil the fear of God into them. But, just like his ma, she was sweet and he could tell at a glance that she adored her children and that she'd do anything for them. He appreciated that she didn't treat him any differently from the others – she didn't blame him for Barton's time locked up on the Raft, or act like his past was something he should be held accountable for. In fact, he'd heard her remind others that he'd had very little control over his own actions for over half a century and, maybe most importantly, he'd heard her muttering about how good looking he was after he'd given in and got his hair cut to Jane and Darcy – he hadn't heard Darcy's reply, because he was too busy rushing to hide in his room since he'd just broken her tablet, but he appreciated Laura's help all the same. Rocket sat facing Barton and Laura, while Groot stood behind him, gazing passively around the room.

Parker's aunt May stood by one of the large windows, next to Natasha, Pepper and Hope; they looked like they were having a very intense conversation over their wine, although Natasha was laughing and Pepper was smiling so it couldn't be anything too serious. Cassie Lang sat on the couch beside them, showing Barton's kids something on an oversized Stark tablet with the smallest boy curled up on her lap. Stark and Banner were showing Shuri something on another Stark tablet in a corner, Stark holding his daughter and Banner gesturing wildly as they clearly argued over whatever they were looking at - if Bucky was a betting man, he'd put all his money on Shuri winning; he didn't doubt either man's intelligence, but he knew that neither held a candle to Shuri's brain. She must have felt his gaze, because she stopped arguing to look up and he raised a hand in greeting to her, returning her easy grin. Lang stood with them, looking midly interested but mostly confused as he sipped from his bottle of beer.

The rest of the party was on the other side of the room, seemingly arguing over yet another one of Stark's machines – Quil was gesturing at it and then at Danvers, who looked unimpressed with whatever argument he was making. Peter Parker stood there as well, with an arm draped over his girlfriend's shoulders; both looking amused at the argument, but Nebula looked confused as she watched them, even as she tilted her head to listen to whatever Dr Lewis was explaining to her.

She was dressed more formally than she would normally be and if he was thankful to the future for anything, it was for the skin tight jeans that had come into fashion and that she seemed so fond of; instead of her normal sweater, she wore a dark red, silky looking top with thin straps that dipped low at the back and revealed pale, soft looking skin that made his stomach tighten as he thought about how it would taste beneath his tongue.

“Think you can tear your eyes off the pretty doctor for a few minutes to greet the folks at the bar?” Sam muttered in his ear, pulling Bucky's attention away from her; he glared but followed him towards the bar anyway, standing awkwardly behind Steve as the attention swung to them.

“Ahh, welcome boys. Allow me to pour you a glass of Asgardian elixir.” Thor boomed and Bucky felt the entire room's attention shift to them; it didn't last long, thankfully, before everyone returned to their own conversations and after watching Steve accepting and taking a sip of the pale gold liquid Thor handed him, he smiled his thanks at Jane as she passed a glass over to him and sipped it carefully – it burned like a good whiskey but was much sweeter; it left an aftertaste in his throat that reminded him of Dr Lewis' perfume, and he took another gulp to chase it.

“We thought the recipe lost forever but the people in New Asgard have been able to re-create it.” Thor explained with a grin as he handed a glass to Sam. “It is not quite as potent as the original, but it should still inebriate you, Captain.”

“So, where were we?” Bucky turned his attention away from Thor as Rocket's voice; the racoon had a familiar gleam in his eyes and he groaned, drawing the rest of the group's attention to them.

“Three pieces of sapphire from Vanaheim, a clipping from Groot - “

“I am Groot!” Groot added what Bucky assumed was a protest at the idea of the little racoon offering pieces of him out.

“A laser gun made on Sakaar - or found on Sakaar anyway – and a hundred Earth bucks; basically worthless but Quil keeps saying you'd appreciate them.”

“No.” Bucky snapped.

“Fine, I'll throw in a bottle of Xandarian ale.”

“It ain't for sale, pal.”

“I'm getting that arm.” Rocket replied, not sounding the slightest bit put out by Bucky's refusal. “Just you wait.”

Bucky saw Steve turning away to hide his laughter and glared at him, wondering if the conversation with Rocket counted and if he could leave now.

“Hey, party people.”

Oh no; he knew that voice – hell, he'd had dreams about that voice.

“My lady Darcy!” Thor's face lit up and Bucky's breath caught as Darcy squeezed herself between him and the bar, making a motion as if to slam her glass on the counter before catching it at the last second.

“Another!”

Bucky was used to jokes going over his head but as the only ones who reacted to her words were Thor, who grinned widely and re-filled her glass, and Jane, who laughed and reached over to clink her glass against Darcy's once Thor had handed it back to her, he didn't feel too bad.

She hopped up on to the counter at his elbow, swinging denim clad legs back and forth and distracting him so much that he was surprised when he lifted his glass to his lips and found it empty. Thor handed him another one without a word and he raised it in thanks.

“What's going on over there in TRL corner?” Laura asked, stepping closer and motioning across the room with her bottle of beer as Barton wandered over to check on the kids. 

“Oh, Peter Q and Carol are arguing which decade was better for music – 80s or 90s.” Darcy laughed, taking a sip of her drink. Laura and Jane both laughed along with her, while Sam whistled in a way that made it clear he was knew exactly what she meant and had an opinion on it; Bucky noticed that no one else in the group looked like they understood either and was gratified to realise he wasn't alone in his confusion.

“Which one is the best?” He was speaking before he realised he'd even opened his mouth and once he had, he realised it was probably the first normal thing he'd said to her beyond his bland 'nice to meet you' all those months ago; he tried to ignore the smirk Sam was giving him and the way Steve suddenly looked much more interested in the conversation and focused on the way Darcy's dark hair fell in messy curls over her shoulders as she turned her attention to him.

“Honestly, too tough to call – I don't play musical favourites with the decades, Bucky. I mean, how can I pick 80s or 90s when the 70s are _right there?_ ” She grinned at him, a flash of white behind berry coloured lips. “But I will say that Peter Q is talking about the cheesiest of 80s pop and Carol is mostly talking about grunge, so between the two of them, she gets my vote. Peter P and MJ are adding their own Gen Z opinions to the argument, and I can't fault MJ's taste - turns out she's a huge Prince fan - but Peter P needs re-educated. Also, just a head's up, Nebula is about one Kevin Bacon comment away from strangling Peter Q so someone should keep an eye over there because I'm not convinced that Carol would step in to stop it and Peter P is terrified of her.”

Only half of her statement made any sense to him but this was the most successful interaction they'd had so far – she'd even used his name – and he was determined to keep it going and to keep her attention on him for as long as possible. The elixir has made him relax; not too much – he was still aware enough to know that if he needed to, he could defend the room – but enough to enjoy her attention, rather than fear it.

“So, if someone wanted to catch up on modern music, where would they start?”

“Someone in general or someone in particular?” She raised an eyebrow over her glasses and he felt his lips curve up in response.

“Funny, I didn't think you were a huge fan of modern music, Barnes.” Sam spoke before he could reply to her – he didn't even need to look to know the younger man was enjoying this. “What was it you said about Bieber when he was on the radio in the coffee shop? Something about folks these days and their terrible taste?”

He was going to murder the flying rat; Steve would be a little upset but they'd weathered worse storms during their friendship and Bucky was confident he'd get over it.

“Damn, are you _judging_ him for not enjoying Bieber? I did not take you for a fan, Sam.”

“I didn't say that.” Sam pointed a finger at Darcy but he was smiling, so Bucky decided not to break it for his rudeness. Plus, he was slightly distracted by the fact that she was defending him – about something stupid, but still.

“And I had such a high opinion of your musical taste after seeing Steve's little black book – honestly, this has me shook.” She continued as if Sam hadn't spoken, knocking back the rest of her drink and sliding off the bar; Bucky reached a hand out to help her, enjoying the warmth of her palm as she steadied herself by gripping his upper arm and trying not to flex too obviously when she tightened her grip in an attempt to feel the muscle there. He didn't know what to make of the wide eyed look she shot Jane, but he hoped it was good.

“Alright, Bucky Barnes; I'm a busy lady but I'm officially taking responsibility for your musical education. By the time I'm done, you'll be an expert in modern music – the good, the bad and the K-Pop.”

She slipped her arm through his left arm and leant against him slightly. Steve was grinning widely at the sight and Bucky glared at him; tonight was going too well for him to allow Steve to scare her off with his proud pa look.

“So what are you going to start with?” Jane asked, clear amusement in her voice. “80s power balad or 90s grunge?”

“Neither.” Darcy grinned. “Let's go Bucky.”

He allowed her to lead him towards the other side of the room, ignoring the soft laughter that broke out behind him, and the sound of Laura and Jane discussing how bad he had it for her because he didn't care – clearly, she wasn't holding their previous interactions against him and this could be the night he convinced her that he wasn't a clumsy idiot; he was willing to put up with a little ribbing from the team if it meant she kept touching him.

“So, here's the thing. Our entire relationship from this point on hinges on your reaction to this song, Barnes.” She turned to face him once they'd reached the other side of the room. She ignored the fact that Quil and Danvers had stopped arguing to watch them, just raising an eyebrow at him, so he followed her example.

“Oh yeah? How's that?”

“I'm going to play you a song and you're either going to love it or hate it; no middle ground here. Depending on your reaction, I'm either going to stop speaking to you entirely or demand that you take me out to dinner and maybe dancing.”

He kept his expression as serious as hers was, ignoring the mutters he could hear from Parker behind them.

“Demand, huh?”

“Well, one of us was going to have to make a move eventually and you don't seem likely to do it anytime soon, what with breaking my stuff and running away.”

Damn, but he adored her.

“Are you going to tell me what reaction I _should_ have?”

“Not a chance.”

They started at each other for a few seconds before he nodded towards the music player.

“Let's hear it then.”

“Bucky Barnes, _this_ is Bohemian Rhapsody.”

The entire atmosphere changed as the song started and Bucky looked around in amazement; the ladies at the window were laughing as they watched the kids on the sofas, who had scrambled on top of the furniture and were now singing loudly, and even Steve was nodding along while Thor looked proud of himself as he serenaded Jane. Stark spun Morgan in a circle and started to sing, while Banner moved in an awkward dance beside him and Shuri laughed and threw her head back to sing along.

The song was catchy and although it seemed to change rapidly from one thing to another, he watched in awe as almost everyone in the room kept up with it – Parker and MJ had taken a part each and were singing back and forth to each other, and Danvers and Quil were leaning against each other, head's thrown back as they shouted every word. The only ones who still looked confused were Nebula and Rocket – Groot was as serene as ever.

Darcy stood in front of him, silent and still; he knew that she was trying not to give away how much she loved the song but he'd been a spy and assassin for over 50 years, and he could spot a tell – her fingers twitched against her leg every so often, matching the beat of the song, and he could see her tucking her bottom lip between her teeth in an attempt not to sing along, a move he found exceptionally distracting. As the song ended, she finally allowed herself to grin and he felt himself returning it as the music changed into something else with guitars that made Barton let out a whoop and kept the rest of the room moving.

“Well?”

“Best thing I've heard in decades.”

Her grin widened and she nodded.

“Right answer, huh?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Uh huh.”

“So, can I take you out for dinner, doll?”

“I thought you'd never ask, Sarge.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has left kudos and kind feedback on this - it's nice to know peope are enjoying it. I have a few chapters already written and I'm also hoping to get lots of inspiration from the series. 
> 
> Chapter 3 - Bucky overhears Darcy discussing couple's therapy with Steve.

“I think we need to look into couple's therapy.”

It was only because he'd been trained, and spent decades, as an assassin that Bucky was able to come to a sharp, silent stop outside Steve's office at the sound of the familiar voice; he put his training to good use, finding a nook to duck into which would allow him a clear eye line to the door while remaining unseen if someone left the room.

Someone like Darcy, for example.

Because, he thought with a twist in his gut, that had definitely been her voice, soft and serious and suggesting couple's therapy in the office Steve only used when he wanted to hide out.

“You think it's that bad?” He heard Steve ask wryly and Darcy sigh loudly in response.

“You don't? After last week?”

Bucky knew his memory wasn't as perfect as Steve's, or even Darcy's; years spent frozen had messed with some important things up there but ever since Shuri had sorted his brain out, it was as good as it was pre World War 2 and try as he might, he couldn't think of anything he'd done last week that would have pissed off his girl enough to suggest _couple's therapy._

He had no problem with therapy itself; if he's being honest with himself, he knows he's likely to be seeing Dr Sloan on and off for the rest of his life and he's fine with that – he's accepted that that's a thing that's going to keep happening. And he actually likes the mild mannered woman who lets him ramble on during their sessions and doesn't react, no matter what he's saying; doesn't matter if it's about the time he put itching powder in Wilson's underwear drawer or about the time he'd killed Kennedy – Dr Sloan has stoic down to an art form. Okay, the doc had actually twitched slightly when he was talking about Kennedy, but that was fair – Darcy said he'd been a pretty popular president and had 'lived on in people's imaginations', whatever the hell that meant. Point is, Bucky's fine with therapy; he isn't frightened or ashamed of it - he's comfortable enough is his masculinity to admit that it helps keep his mind clear, especially after missions.

What he _is_ frightened of, however, is the fact that he didn't even think him and Darcy were having issues; as far as he was concerned, they were solid. They'd been together for just over a year now, living at the Avengers Compound with the rest of the team; she worked in the lab with Jane and Banner, and Stark when he decided for visit, while he trained with Steve and helped plan missions for the team and as far as he was concerned, things were perfect. Okay, maybe not perfect – she had a temper and he was overprotective, so they fought occasionally and while it tended to be loud, it was never serious; her temper was quick to flare but it died just as quickly, plus he was an expert at gaining her forgiveness. It was a cliché but if she was happy, he was happy; not the bright, fake cheerfulness that so many people posted pictures of online, but genuine contentment – she might be upset or angry sometimes, but as long as he knew that she was happy overall in their relationship, he was fine.

Darcy had been the bright spot when he moved here after Wakanda; when everything got too loud and the stares too much for him, and he was desperate to escape, she tagged him as security and made him drive to the middle of nowhere so she could take calculations on a meteor shower. After only a handful of conversations between them, she'd picked up on his agitation and instead of pointing it out in front of everyone and drawing attention to it, she'd made arrangements to remove him from the situation, without making him feel like he had to justify himself for needing time away; from then on out, there was an unspoken agreement that he was her security detail when she needed to go anywhere and a few months into that arrangement, they were seeing each other. She insisted that it was casual but he was from a different time and had a different view on things; after four dates and progressing from chaste kisses at her door to heavy necking in hidden corners of the compound, he'd taken her to an old fashioned dance hall that Natalia had found for him and spun her around the floor all night, and then taken her home and they'd had sex for the first time (and then second, third and fourth time) and as far as he was concerned, they were a done deal. She was sweet and funny and bitingly sarcastic and she had a figure that could've been painted onto the nose of his plane if he'd been in the air force; she kept him entertained and helped him catch up with what he'd missed, she would sit next to him on movie night, curled up against his arm and murmuring explanations to the pop culture references he didn't pick up on. She'd insisted it was casual right up until their eight month anniversary, when he'd half asked, half demanded to move into her apartment, but he'd been serious since day one and he'd always had a suspicion that she had been too – she just hadn't wanted to admit it and leave herself open to getting hurt. 

“How are you going to approach it?” He heard Steve ask, pulling him out of his thoughts and making him scowl again. He couldn't believe that Steve was encouraging this – he should be telling Darcy to find Bucky and tell him whatever was bothering her so that he could _fix_ it, not humouring her. 

“I figured I'd just say 'hey, we need to talk about couple's therapy' and go from there.”

“Could backfire.”

“Could it be any worse?”

Oh damn. Her voice was slightly amused but the words were bad; here he was, walking around thinking himself the luckiest guy in the world because she was his girl, and she was asking his best friend if their relationship could be any worse. Where was this coming from? He'd literally seen her a few hours ago, naked and shuddering as he held her up against the wall of the shower – her goodbye kiss has been wicked and her smile had been blinding before she left for the labs; what could possibly have happened since then that was making her doubt them? Doubt  _him?_

He heard a chair scrape against the ground and held his breath as he watched them leave the office together; Steve had an arm draped casually over her shoulder and it was only a century of friendship that stopped him for reaching out with his metal arm to break the offending limb. He couldn't see her face, but he watched as they strolled to the end of the corridor, before she stepped into an elevator and Steve wandered towards the meeting room at the end of the hall; they both looked so casual as they talked about ordering pizza for dinner, as if they hadn't just been contemplating blowing his happiness to pieces.

He didn't know how long he stood there, staring at the grey wall, before he realised it was safe and wandering towards the stairs and up to their floor, heading towards their shared kitchen – each floor had 4 large apartments plus a shared living space; theirs held Steve, Wilson, Shuri, when she was on site, and him and Darcy. It worked well for them and he knew that they used the common areas on their floor more than the others; for big team events, they used the communal floor but apart from that, they were the group that spent the most time together. After a cooking debacle that left Darcy feeling sick for days, she and Wilson had banned him and Steve from the kitchen, and they took it in turns to cook or order in – he swore they hadn't under boiled the chicken on purpose, and while he had been a _grade A mother hen_ according to Darcy during her illness, he couldn't say he was unhappy with the outcome. When Thor was in New Asgard or off world, Jane would spend a few nights a week with them as well and no one minded, since she made the _best_ deserts and was always willing to take requests if she'd had a good day of science. It wasn't the life he'd thought about when he was younger, but it was his and he was happy with it. Or he had been, up until about ten minutes ago.

“What's with the long face, T-800?”

Ugh, he hadn't realised Wilson was sitting at the kitchen table, tapping away at his tablet and eating what smelt like a bacon sandwich.

On occasion, if he was in a good enough mood, Bucky would admit that he liked Sam Wilson – he was a good guy, had kept Steve out of trouble for a while and he'd seen him step between Darcy and a Doombot in the city, so he had his gratitude but damn, could he be irritating. He was always using obscure nicknames for him, knowing full well that Bucky wouldn't understand them and have to ask Darcy what they meant, and he was constantly playing the 'who's Captain America's real BFF' game, despite knowing that he couldn't win. Sure, Sam and Steve had travelled the world together for a while – chasing _him_ as he liked to remind Wilson – but Bucky and Steve had grown up together; they'd supported each other during the Depression, scraping up just enough money for their families to stay fed and to buy medicine for Steve's never ending list of illnesses. They'd fought in a war and spent months in freezing, war torn Europe as they planned their next moves. They'd fought the Nazis _and_ Hydra together – Wilson's time as sidekick just couldn't compete with that and he felt bad for the guy, he really did, but he also liked to remind him of that at times.

And he knew the feeling was mutual – he'd caught the glares from Wilson and heard Darcy laughing and Steve sighing at their arguments; he knew he wasn't always an easy guy to get along with and that was fine. They had each other's backs on the field, and that was good enough – Bucky had Steve and Darcy, and by extension Jane when she was feeling sociable, so he didn't need anyone else.

Still, Wilson could be a good listener if you caught him in the right mood, and his mood was always best after he'd eaten; maybe he'd be able to help with this whole therapy thing.

“I uh...” The hesitancy in his voice must've caught Wilson's attention and Bucky watched as he tapped a few more times before setting the tablet aside. “I heard Darcy talking to Steve about us going for couple's therapy.”

“The hell?” He was gratified to see that Wilson looked as confused as he felt – he _knew_ this was coming out of nowhere. “Man, I didn't know you two were having issues.”

“Me neither, pal.”

“I mean, certainly didn't look like you were having issues when we walked in on you last Thursday.”

“You shoulda knocked.”

“It's a communal area, Barnes. I shouldn't need to knock.”

They fell silent and Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair as he threw himself down onto the couch; he dropped his head and stared up at the ceiling as he tried to remember anything he'd done which might have upset her.

“We haven't even been fighting.”

“You threaten one of the nerds for trying to look down her shirt again? You know she hates that.”

“Not since last month.” He replied glumly.

“Man, I dunno... couple's therapy.” Sam shook his head just as Bucky heard the sound of footsteps outside – three sets, one a heavy tread that could only be Steve and two lighter sets, which had to be Darcy and Jane.

“What are you guys talking about?” Steve asked as he followed the two scientists into the room. The tips of his ears has gone red and Bucky knew he'd heard Wilson's last comment; he narrowed his eyes but Steve avoided his gaze, keeping his attention on Jane, who wandered straight to the kitchen to rummage around in the fridge. Darcy dropped into the couch next to him, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder with a yawn as she kicked her shoes under the table; her soft grumble and the way she shifted told him that she could feel how rigid he was and he knew he had to say something before she asked what was wrong.

“We're talkin' about couple's therapy.” He felt her tense next to him, and watched as she pushed herself up slowly and looked at him, before glancing away to exchange looks with Steve and then turning back again.

“You were?”

“I heard you. In Steve's office.” He told her blankly; nervously, he clenched and then loosened the fist of his left hand, listening to the plates shifting into place. “Doll, I don't know what I did but if you tell me, I'll fix it. We don't need therapy.”

He watched her face carefully, as her expression shifted from confused to unsure to amused to adoring and he felt himself relax very slightly – that wasn't the face of someone who thought there was an issue in their relationship.

“Bucky, did you maybe only hear half the conversation?” She asked softly, bringing one of her hands up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear; he caught her palm and pressed a kiss to it, before lowering it to rest on his thigh, fingers entwined.

“I heard you saying we needed couple's therapy.”

“We? Did you hear me saying you and me needed it?”

“I... well, no. But who else could you have been talking about?”

“Well, I was talking about you.” Her voice was quiet and her eyes were soft but he could see that she was biting back a smirk and he narrowed his eyes, suspicious now that he knew they weren't in trouble.

“I'm so glad I came up for lunch.” He heard Jane mutter from behind the kitchen island. “I was afraid I'd miss it.”

“Me?”

“You. And him.”

He followed her finger and met Wilson's eye; the other man startled, and then looked outraged. He opened his mouth to respond, before Steve dropped a hand on to his shoulder and his mouth shut with an audible click.

“You think Wilson and I need couple's therapy?” He asked in confusion.

“Well, no – not actual couple's therapy; that was mostly a joke.” Darcy grinned. “But yes, we do think you two should see someone about the constant antagonising and arguments.”

“Bullshit.” Wilson snapped and Bucky glared at him.

“Mind your manners when speaking to my girl, pal.”

“This is exactly what we're talking about.” Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Buck, if Sam said the sky was blue you'd argue with him that it was green and Sam, if Bucky said it was raining outside, you'd insist that the sun was blinding him.”

“Okay, I would just like to point out that we _all_ argue; hell, I heard Darcy threatening to send Jane to the other side of the universe yesterday.”

“She could do it, too.” Jane commented around a bite of muffin.

“Aww, thanks babe.” Darcy beamed at her and Bucky shook his head – they had the weirdest friendship. “And yeah, you're right Sam. We all argue. There are a lot of big personalities in a relatively small space and fights are bound to happen. But Jane and I _never_ argue during experiments because it would be too dangerous – last week, you guys started a fight over what direction to go and Clint almost ended up in a ditch.”

Yeah, she had a point, Bucky thought; it hadn't been his finest hour but he'd been forced to leave her in bed, naked and frustrated, when he got the call to assemble so he'd already been in a bad mood when he arrived at the jet and 30 minutes of Wilson's teasing hadn't helped so he'd picked a fight about which way they should go and the resulting argument had left Clint in a vulnerable position. Steve had been so pissed at the two of them on the way back that he hadn't been able to speak – although, clearly he'd tattled to Darcy, because Bucky hadn't mentioned the incident to her but she knew all about it. Stupid punk.

“And when you guys were down at the farm – Sam, you know Bucky's arm could take the weight but you insisted on holding up the car and you nearly broke your damn hand. We can't afford any of you getting hurt because of petty arguments. And I know that they're petty, because I know, deep, deep down, you like each other.”

“Do not.” Wilson muttered sullenly and Bucky shot him another glare before turning his attention back to Darcy.

“So, just so that we're clear, you don't think we need therapy?” He kept his voice low, glancing around and narrowing his eyes at the amused look on Steve's face. Sam still looked a bit confused and Jane had moved on from the muffin and was biting into an apple, looking far too entertained by the whole thing.

“Do _you_ think we need therapy?” Darcy asked back with a soft smile. “Because I'm perfectly happy with our tried and tested method of getting over fights. Y'know, when you apologise. On your knees.”

Damn, if she kept smirking at him like that he'd agree to anything she asked - even the therapy with Wilson.

“Hey now, less of that.” Wilson protested. “I'm already scarred for life with you two.”

“Jealous, Wilson?” Bucky taunted, draping his metal arm carefully over Darcy's shoulder and tugging her closer. “I got a girl and you don't?”

“I could get a girl any time I wanted.” Sam grinned confidently.

“You are smooth.” Jane murmured from her perch and Sam nodded at her in agreement.

“Damn right I am.”

“I feel like this conversation got away from me.” Darcy mused, allowing her head to drop against Bucky's shoulder again and sighing in contentment now the it had relaxed.

“Welcome to my world.” Steve sighed.


End file.
